The Clumsy Girl

~ Tosca

The first thing I do this morning is spill tea down my blouse.

The second is to attempt to fix it with magic, which should've been simple enough considering I've spent the last several years studying the subject.

Unfortunately, I get distracted halfway through the spell, and a small flame appears at the edge of my sleeve.

"Oh, shit!"

I grab the nearest towel and smother it before the fire spreads, then stare at the blackened fabric in disbelief.

Wonderful. I've been awake for twenty minutes, and I've already managed to set myself on fire. Yesterday's return to the academy went surprisingly well, so I suppose I was overdue for a disaster.

"Well," Nessa says from my doorway, "you're off to a promising start."

I look up at her. She's leaning against the doorframe, her dark curls piled into a messy bun, with several strands sticking out around her face. Her uniform is slightly crooked, and she's wearing two different socks, although I doubt she's noticed.

"Do you think anyone will notice?" I ask, holding up my sleeve.

Nessa studies the burned fabric. "That you've apparently been attacked by a very small dragon?"

"It's not that bad."

"Tosca, there's a hole in your blouse."

"I can fix it."

"That's what you said about the tea, wasn't it?"

I give her a look before reaching for another blouse.

Nessa grins and wanders into my room, carefully stepping over the books scattered across the floor.

"Elodie's downstairs. She's having a crisis."

"What kind of crisis?"

"Apparently she smiled at a boy yesterday, and he smiled back."

I pause halfway through fastening my buttons. "Oh, that's terrible."

"Exactly. Now she's worried he thinks they're courting."

I laugh, nearly putting another button through the wrong hole.

That's the thing about having friends who are just as socially hopeless as you are. Nobody judges anybody else for being ridiculous.

Well, we judge each other constantly, but it's affectionate.

Mostly.

By the time I'm dressed, my room looks as though somebody has searched it for stolen treasure. Books cover my desk, clothes are scattered across the bed, and there's still a faint smell of burned cotton lingering in the air.

I grab my satchel, check that my wand is inside, and follow Nessa into the corridor.

The academy is already awake. Students hurry between the old stone buildings, their voices carrying across the courtyard. Floating lanterns drift beneath the arches, slowly dimming as the morning sun rises. Somewhere above us, a flock of enchanted paper birds escapes through an open classroom window, pursued by a furious-looking professor.

I love this place.

I love the towers, the libraries, and the smell of old parchment. I love the way magic hums through the walls, so familiar now that I barely notice it unless I've been away for the holidays.

It's the social part I struggle with.

Elodie is waiting outside the dining hall, twisting the strap of her bag around her fingers. Her blonde hair is neatly braided, and unlike Nessa and me, she actually looks as though she's made an effort with her appearance.

"He said good morning," she announces when she sees us.

Nessa stops. "Who?"

"The boy."

"What boy?"

"The one I smiled at yesterday."

"Oh, no," I say gravely.

Elodie gives me a miserable look. "Don't."

"Did you say good morning back?"

"Yes."

Nessa presses a hand to her chest. "Elodie. You're practically engaged."

"Both of you are horrible."

We laugh, and Elodie eventually joins in, although she still looks worried.

"Perhaps he was just being polite," I suggest.

"That's what I thought, but then he asked whether I was looking forward to the new term."

Nessa stares at her. "Well, that's it. You'll have to start planning the wedding."

Elodie groans and pushes open the dining hall doors.

I follow her inside, still laughing.

And then I see Dregon.

Of course I see him. It's practically impossible not to.

He's sitting near the enormous windows with Brehm, Warren, Celeste, and the usual collection of students who seem to have been born knowing exactly how to behave in public.

Dregon is leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Brehm has said. His blond hair is slightly messy, although in that irritating way that looks intentional. His uniform shirt is open at the collar, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms.

He's tall, broad-shouldered, and unfairly handsome.

Unfortunately, he's also one of the most talented warlocks at the academy. If he were merely handsome, I might have a chance of recovering from this ridiculous crush, but he has to be clever, powerful, funny, and good at practically everything.

"You're staring," Nessa whispers.

"I'm looking for a table."

"With your mouth open?"

I close it.

Elodie giggles.

"I wasn't staring."

"Of course not," Nessa says. "You were admiring the architecture."

"Exactly."

"The architecture has lovely shoulders."

I elbow her.

Unfortunately, my elbow connects with a passing student's stack of books instead.

The top one slides sideways, and I instinctively reach out to catch it. For one second, I think I've saved the situation. Then I knock the remaining books out of his arms.

"Oh, gods. I'm so sorry!"

The student looks at me, then at his books.

"It's fine," he says, crouching to gather them.

I crouch too, determined to help, and our heads collide hard.

"Ow!"

"Oh, gods!"

"I'm fine," he mutters, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"Tosca," Nessa says carefully, "perhaps you should stand up."

I stand.

Too quickly.

My satchel swings forward and knocks into the student's shoulder. Elodie makes a strangled noise behind me.

The boy closes his eyes for a moment, clutching his remaining books against his chest as though they're the only things keeping him alive.

"Sorry," I whisper.

He gathers the last of his books and hurries off without another word. For a moment, I consider following him to apologize properly, but Nessa grabs my arm.

"No."

"What?"

"Whatever you're thinking, don't."

"But..."

"He's survived. Let him recover."

I sigh and turn toward the serving counter. That's when I realize people are laughing, including Dregon.

He's looking directly at me, grinning at something Warren says. Brehm is laughing beside him, while Celeste and her friends have turned around to see what caused the commotion.

Vivienne, one of Celeste's closest friends, whispers something to Marla, who immediately covers her mouth. Odette glances at me before returning her attention to her breakfast.

Heat floods my face.

I lower my eyes and hurry toward the serving counter.

"Ignore them," Nessa mutters.

"I am."

"You're walking into the bread display."

I stop just before my forehead meets a tower of breakfast rolls.

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

By the time we find a table, I'm considering whether it's possible to spend the rest of term living in the library. Perhaps I could convince Professor Veyne to let me sleep beneath the enchantments shelves.

There are worse places.

"He's an idiot," Nessa says, following my gaze.

"Who?"

"Tosca."

"What?"

She gives me a look.

I concentrate very hard on buttering my toast.

Across the hall, Warren stands up to talk to someone a table away and Celeste slides into the chair he leaves empty directly beside Dregon.

She's beautiful, naturally. Her long blonde hair falls over one shoulder, and her uniform looks as though it was tailored specifically for her. Vivienne, Marla, and Odette sit around her, chatting animatedly about something that happened over the holidays.

Celeste says something that makes Dregon laugh, then leans against him and he casually drapes an arm around her shoulders.

I look away before I can see anything else.

They aren't officially together, as far as anyone knows, but they might as well be.

Celeste is one of the prettiest girls in our year, Dregon is one of the most popular boys, and they're always together at parties, flirting as though the rest of us are merely decorative additions to their world.

They make sense together. I don't even make sense standing beside a breakfast display.

"Stop looking," Nessa says gently.

"I'm not."

"Tosca."

I sigh.

Elodie reaches across the table and pats my hand.

"Maybe this term you'll meet somebody nice."

"Somebody who doesn't laugh when you nearly concuss yourself," Nessa adds.

"That would be lovely."

"And perhaps somebody with a less ridiculous face," Elodie says.

I blink. "What?"

"Dregon. His face is ridiculous."

Nessa nods. "Offensively symmetrical."

I laugh despite myself.

Across the dining hall, Dregon turns his head and for a brief moment, our eyes meet.

My laughter fades, and I look down at my plate before I can do something embarrassing again. When I glance up a moment later, Warren drops himself in the seat Celeste abandoned to sit next to Dregon and she is now touching his jaw, drawing his attention back to her. He smiles at her, and she smiles back.

I stab a piece of toast with my fork, which is completely unnecessary but makes me feel slightly better.

"This is going to be a very long term," I mutter.

Nessa reaches for the jam.

"Well, at least you haven't set yourself on fire in public yet."

I look at her.

"Don't," I warn.

She grins.

---

~ Dregon

"You're staring."

I turn toward Brehm. "What?"

"At that table."

"I'm looking at the noticeboard."

Brehm glances toward the noticeboard, which is on the opposite wall.

"Right."

I take a drink of coffee and ignore his grin.

Warren is still laughing about the girl who nearly knocked herself unconscious with a stack of books.

"Did you see her face?" he asks. "I thought she was going to climb inside her own bag."

"Poor thing," Celeste says, although she's laughing.

Vivienne also laughs. "She does something like that every term."

"At least she's consistent," Marla adds.

Odette takes another bite of toast. "I'm surprised the boy survived."

That sets Warren off again.

I laugh along, remembering the expression on Tosca's face when she realized half the dining hall had witnessed her little disaster. She'd looked absolutely horrified.

I probably shouldn't have laughed, but Warren's impression of the whole thing was admittedly accurate.

Still, I glance back toward her table.

She's sitting with Nessa and Elodie now, looking considerably more relaxed. Nessa says something that makes Tosca laugh, and she tips her head back with a smile.

I've noticed that smile before. Actually, I've noticed quite a lot about Tosca.

She's quiet in class, except when a professor asks something about enchantments. Then she seems to forget she's surrounded by people and starts talking with an enthusiasm that makes her eyes shine.

I've thought she was pretty for a while, too, although I've kept that opinion to myself. Warren and Brehm would never let me hear the end of it.

"Earth to Dregon."

I turn back.

Celeste is watching me.

"What?"

"Are you coming tonight?"

"Where?"

She rolls her eyes.

"Brehm's room. Drinks. You know, the thing we've been talking about for the last ten minutes?"

"Right. Yeah, probably."

"Probably?"

I grin. "Depends how much trouble you intend to cause."

She smiles and leans closer.

"Plenty."

Warren makes a gagging noise.

"Oh, just get together already."

Celeste laughs and slips her hand onto my knee beneath the table.

I smile at her, but don't answer.

We've been flirting for ages, and everyone seems convinced we're eventually going to become a couple. I like Celeste. She's beautiful, confident, and fun to spend time with, especially at parties.

I've just never felt particularly inclined to make anything official.

"Speaking of tonight," Marla says, "I heard the autumn formal is going to be announced this week."

Vivienne immediately sits straighter.

"Already? I haven't even started looking for a dress."

"You've got weeks," Odette points out.

"That's barely enough time."

Warren groans.

"Oh, hell. Here we go."

Celeste laughs and starts discussing dresses with her friends.

I let the conversation drift around me while I finish my coffee.

Across the hall, Tosca is gathering her books.

One slips from her arms, but she catches it against her hip before it falls. Elodie says something, and Tosca laughs at herself.